悠悠岁月荡呀荡,梦里几回回故乡。想起故乡那圆圆的月儿,圆圆的烧饼和祖祖辈辈面朝黄土背朝天辛勤耕耘的父老乡亲。曾记得小的时候,每每我放学回家,奶奶总烙好喷香诱人的烧饼等着我,而嘴馋的我也最爱吃奶奶烙的烧饼。多少个凉爽的夏夜,我依偎在奶奶怀里,咀嚼着烧饼的清香,仰望碧天里的星星,痴痴地听着奶奶不知讲了多少遍的月亮的故事和嫦 Years and years of swinging, dreams, several times back home. Think of the hometown of the round moon, round sesame seeds and ancestral fathers and grandfathers facing lofty backs of heaven and earth. I remember that when I was a child, every time I went home from school, my grandmother always savored me with savory sesame seeds. I also loved to eat hot sesame cake. How many cool summer nights, I nestled in my grandmother’s arms, chewed the incense of the pancakes, looked up at the stars in the sky, and watched indefinitely the story and story of how many times the grandmother did not talk about the moon.